


the motion blur

by ndnickerson



Category: Nancy Drew - Keene
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Nancy Drew Files, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-28
Updated: 2009-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-05 10:21:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nancy's dinner with a suspect doesn't go quite as well as she expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the motion blur

**Author's Note:**

> This story involves extremely dubious consent.

"Mr. Nickerson?"

Ned dry-washed his face with his palms and looked up, meeting the eyes of the bored emergency-room nurse.

"She seems to be fine. Take her home, put her to bed. She'll wake up with a bad headache but that's basically it."

"You're sure that's it? I mean, do I have to wake her up every hour..."

"Why would you have to do that?" The nurse glanced at her pager. "Just put her to bed."

"Just... concussion, that kind of thing," Ned started, but trailed off as the nurse left, utterly unconcerned. He followed her to where Nancy stood waiting, a slight furrow in her brow.

He had to focus on her face, because if he didn't, he'd just get angry again.

Nancy had been on a date with a suspect, which, she had reassured Ned several times, was just to get information out of him. Ned had been entirely distracted while she was gone, pacing his room at the frat, watching his phone, glancing out the window every minute in expectation of her car. When she had called him forty-five minutes into her date, almost incoherent, begging him to pick her up, he'd come running. He'd found her standing on a corner two blocks away from the restaurant where she was supposed to be, disoriented and sweating. Ned had immediately called the cops and had Rick Parrish picked up and detained before breaking every speed limit all the way to the hospital.

Ned just wasn't used to seeing her like this. She definitely didn't dress like this for any of her dates with him. Her hair was half-up, her eyes smoky and heavily lined, but it was the plunging neckline between her breasts that got him. Her skirt fluttered dangerously high with her every step and she teetered on her heels, and it all made her look like she'd just spent five hours dancing at a club.

"Come on, babe. Back to Theta Pi."

Nancy blinked up at him, smiling, and kept her arm tucked through his as he signed her out and they walked back to his car. When he slid into the driver's seat, she was still sitting sideways in hers, her feet on the pavement, bent forward over her knees. Her back was mostly bare and he could've traced every bump in her spine, if he'd wanted.

A part of him he worked very, very hard to ignore imagined the way she'd shiver if he ran his tongue up between her shoulder blades.

Ned shook himself and let his hands drop heavily on the steering wheel. "Nan, you okay?" he asked, without looking at her.

"I feel... so weird," she whispered, raking her fingers through her hair.

Ned put his hand on her back, without letting himself think about it. "It's okay. We just need to get you to bed."

She swung around in the seat, turning toward him, her lips parted. "Ned," she said softly.

Something, something about the low, sultry sound of her voice, the expression in her eyes, sent a jolt straight through his hips, and Ned had to take a long, slow, deep breath before he could look at her again. He took his hand off her back and his fingertips tingled from the loss of contact.

"Nan, you were drugged."

"What do you mean?"

"Rick put something in your drink."

The nurse had told both of them, explicitly, and the name of the drug sounded innocuous, but he'd never seen Nancy acting like this. He didn't know how Rick had managed to get it into her drink.

He'd tried to drug her so he could rape her.

Ned didn't care if he was responsible for the bribery ring or not, he wanted Rick dead and in a thousand pieces.

"Nan? Can you just... shut your door?"

"Yeah," she sighed, swinging her door closed, and Ned had to gently prompt her again to remind her about her seat belt.

And then he had to pull over on the way back to Theta Pi so she could throw up. She bent over on her knees, chills racking her frame, and when she met his eyes to thank him for the napkin he gave her, her lashes were thick and wet with tears.

"I'm gonna kill him," Ned muttered under his breath, sliding into the driver's seat beside her once she was able to get back into the car.

"Ned," she said, very seriously.

"Hmm?"

"I love you," she said, then giggled. "I mean, I love you. _A lot._"

"I love you too, Nan."

She moved toward him in the seat, straining against her belt, and he could feel her gaze, centered on his face. "Can I tell you a secret," she whispered.

Her hand was suddenly on his thigh. Ned shifted, pressing the gas pedal a little harder, and tried not to think about it when the warmth of her skin, her fingers through the fabric of his jeans was all he could think about. "Is it a good secret?"

"I think so." She leaned in, until her belt locked, and her breath was warm against his ear, and Ned started shivering. "There's something I've always wanted to do."

Ned reluctantly braked at the light three blocks away from the sorority house, stomping the pedal harder than he had to. He had to get Nancy out of the car before he did something he shouldn't.

The light turned green, he stomped the gas, and Nancy actually nipped at his earlobe, catching it between her teeth, and Ned almost ran the car straight into a light pole.

"I've always wanted to strip for you."

Ned groaned. "That's not you talking," he said, more for his benefit than hers. "It's not you. Not really."

"You don't want me to do it?" She put a pout in her voice, her fingertips straying far too close to his zipper. "I don't know how to do it, really. But I've always wanted to try. And... a lap dance. I want to do that for you too."

Ned coughed hard, his mouth suddenly dry, and cursed himself even as he was saying it. "Why?"

She tilted her head and her lips brushed the hollow behind his ear and he pulled into the parking lot at Theta Pi with the screech of rubber against the curb. "I can see it in your eyes, when you want me," she whispered. "God, it feels so good, I can feel it all over me, every inch of my skin." She kissed his earlobe. "Like now."

Ned put his hand firmly over Nancy's, keeping it still, away from his zipper and the growing bulge behind it. "You're not thinking straight, Nan," he murmured. "I'm gonna walk you to the door, okay? Go inside and go to sleep. You'll be okay in the morning."

She pulled back. "We aren't going to your room?"

_Hell no._ "Not right now," he soothed. "It's okay."

When he shut the door behind her, safely inside Theta Pi, her expression some cross between disappointment and longing, Ned sighed in relief, then walked carefully back to the car, half-hunched over.

If he didn't have a mental image of Nancy, half-naked, eyes low-lidded, pouting in front of him every second for the next two weeks, he'd be a lucky man.

\--

He had to walk through a movie, a marathon video game session, and a drinking game to get to his room, and as soon as he was alone, he almost collapsed to the floor with relief, fumbling with his jeans. When he could concentrate again, he went to the sink to splash cold water on his face and met his own gaze in the mirror.

It had been so close. Now that he could, he let himself imagine giving over to it, dragging her into the backseat, shoving her skirt up over her hips. He'd wanted her so much that he'd practically been vibrating with it, and even now, he could see the way her fingertips slid up under the hem of her skirt, the thin fabric fluttering under her hand as she clung to his arm, his forearm pressed against the tender underside of her breast.

God, to see her strip for him. Ned groaned and buried his face in the towel. Five more minutes and he would have let her do it, would have let her do whatever she wanted.

He'd seen her in a bikini but never actually naked, never all of her, shy and blushing and coy. Tonight she'd only been coy, sexy as hell.

He stripped to his boxers for bed, trying not to think about it, when it was all he could think about. He'd take it all out on Rick in the morning. And in the morning she'd just feel sick, all of it forgotten, like it had never happened, and he'd be cursed to know, to wonder if any of it had been real, if she ever laid awake, staring at the ceiling, burning for him the way he was right now.

He sighed and turned over, curling up in a ball, trying not to imagine what would happen if she walked through the door at that very moment.

\--

Somehow he wasn't surprised to answer a knock at his door at two in the morning and find her standing there. He'd been imagining it so vividly that he actually smiled, even though nothing had really changed.

She was wearing gloves, for God's sake. Stockings and stilettos. She'd raided someone's closet and they'd let her come over, because he'd lied and told the girls that she had just had way, way too much to drink, to just watch her, and now he had her back like some bad penny, and as soon as she crossed the threshold into his room, he was already half-hard.

It wasn't fair. Wasn't fair at all. He opened his mouth to object but she had closed the door and was tugging at each finger on her glove, slowly drawing it down her arm, and... he had to say no. Had to. They had come nowhere near having sex and he wasn't going to do this, wasn't going to take advantage of her while—

But it seemed so real.

She smirked a little. "Got any music, Nickerson," she purred, playing with the hem of her shirt.

"Nan," he began to sigh.

She stepped forward, between his thighs, and bent down until she was staring at him, her eyes dancing, her thumb over his mouth. "Just turn the music on, Ned."

He opened his mouth and she tilted her face, guiding his chin, and the tension began to melt. It was her. Every atom of his entire being responded to her. The feel of her lips on his was so familiar.

She chuckled and stepped back, then sauntered over to his album collection. He recognized the one she selected, the first few bars made him smile, but this was wrong on so, so many levels. She couldn't consent. There was no way she could consent to this.

He hadn't said a damn word. He hadn't suggested this.

And if he could just forget what had caused this—

But he couldn't.

He stood up just as she tugged her shirt over her head, revealing a black lacy bra, and immediately he was staring at it, trying to trace the lines of her breasts through it. She stretched her arms up again and her breasts rose, milky smooth and quivering against the low cups of her bra, and Ned was practically salivating at the thought of one of them just gently coming free, revealing a nipple. He'd never seen her bare breasts before. Easily a quarter of his daydreams involved every intimate detail of them.

She hooked one thumb in the waistband of her skirt and inched it down, and there was no point in even trying to hide his erection now, there was no way she hadn't noticed. He saw a light blush stain her cheeks but for the most part his attention was riveted to the bare flesh revealed with every tug at her skirt, and he sank back to the bed, mesmerized.

She stopped and Ned glanced up at her eyes, ready to beg her to keep going. "You like?" she whispered, and cupped his face in her hands, tracing her fingertips down his cheeks.

"Can't you tell," he murmured wryly, and she swiveled her hips and pressed herself close to him, until his face was almost buried against her breasts.

"Hmm," she sighed, rubbing against him, and Ned couldn't help himself, he scraped his teeth against the taut flesh of her breast and she let out a breathy little gasp as her nipple slipped out, flushed dark against the black lace, a deep rosy pink and already tipped firm. He sucked it into his mouth, hands somehow already circling her waist and tugging her urgently in to him, and she slid up onto the bed, her skirt hiked up, and then the join of her hips was against the bulge under his boxers and she was actually fucking grinding against him, fingers in his hair, whimpering as he suckled. Her bra strap fell down her arm and he nuzzled aside the other cup, and they fell, with her on top, his mouth still latched onto her other breast, the shivers that slid down her spine translating to the rough grind of her hips against his.

Ned closed his eyes and tilted his head back. "God, I want to be inside you," he muttered, grabbing her ass and pressing her down against him as she rubbed herself against him. "And we can't do this."

"Why not," she groaned, her mouth open in a long slow sigh, tendrils of her hair stuck to her damp cheek as she ground into him.

"Because," Ned began, then shuddered as he felt Nancy's fingers at his waist, groping for his waistband.

_She'll hate you for the rest of your life if you do this._

That and that alone made him grit his teeth, grab her by the waist and swing her off him. Her breasts bounced invitingly close to his face as she reached behind her back to take her bra off.

He had to close his eyes, or he was lost. He kissed her ear and whispered, "I've always wanted something too."

"What?" Her voice was breathy, childlike. His groin tightened in answer. But it wasn't her. Wasn't her.

"Do you ever... think about me and touch yourself?"

He pulled back so he could see her face and she dropped his gaze, blushing a little, biting her lower lip. It was all the answer he could ever have asked for.

"Is that what you want me to do?"

She glanced up at him, and he held her gaze, nodding. "I want to watch, Nan. I want you to say my name when you come."

She kicked the stilettos off and bent her legs, knees up, and when he gently bit one nipple she let her legs fall open as she arched under him, letting out a low moan.

"Will you do it for me?"

She hooked her thumbs in the elastic of her waistband and Ned's erection started clamoring even louder to join in. 

"Will it make you want me?"

"God, yes," he admitted, his gaze on her face but all his attention on his peripheral vision, the lace panties, the forbidden.

She peeled them down and opened her legs again, and Ned was breathless.

"Don't you want to do it?"

Oh, he would burn for this, but at least this wasn't everything she had wanted. Almost trembling with arousal, Ned leaned down and kissed her on the mouth, as he led her hand between her legs.

"Next time," he promised.

Nancy wrapped one leg around his waist, angling her hips against his, her hand cupped between her thighs and Ned's hand cupped over hers, the back of it rubbing against his cock, through his thin boxers. He nibbled his way down her neck, tasting her skin, and sighed as he flicked her nipple with the tip of his tongue and his fingers followed the dip of hers, as she traced them between her slick inner lips, then up again, and she buried her hand in his hair, arching under him, and Ned gently took her nipple between his teeth. He closed his eyes and only their hands and his boxers were between them, her skirt hiked up and pressed between their bellies, her stocking whispering against the small of his back as she tightened her hold on him.

"God," he mumbled, and when Nancy tugged at his boxers he made only a halfhearted attempt to stop her. When his cock was free Nancy caught his earlobe in her teeth.

"I'm wet for you," she whispered, nipping down his neck. "Like you wanted." Her fingers were still working between her thighs and then she hooked her slicked hot index finger around his and led it to her clit, and they both cried out as he touched it for the first time, her entire body shaking under his. His mouth found hers and her wet fingers wrapped around his cock and he bit her lower lip.

"You have no idea how much I want this but we can't..."

"You sound like a woman," she whispered, exploring his cock with her fingers, rubbing the ball of her thumb over the head, and he moaned. "I'm the one who's supposed to say we can't. And why can't we."

"Because," Ned murmured, and watched her mouth drop open as he slid two fingers up inside her, and she was so incredibly slick and hot, and he slid his thumbs up and down her lips and parted her and she was panting under him, eyes low-lidded, and oh, oh God.

"Because you won't remember," he said slowly, and when she opened her mouth he slid his fingers into her again, finding her clit with his thumb, and ruthlessly thrust until she was writhing under him, and she tried to jerk him off but she was shivering and he gently led her hand, stroking himself with her fist until he was on the point of orgasm.

"Ned, oh my God, oh my God," she whimpered, her voice rising, and when he felt her flesh ripple and suck against his fingers he let himself come, realizing too late that the warmth against the tip of his cock was her skirt, bunched against her belly.

"Fuck," he mumbled, pushing himself up. Nancy was sprawled loose under him, her face tipped back, one fist still loosely clasped around his cock. Her eyes slowly fluttered open as he began to tug her skirt off.

"Wow," she murmured, shifting her weight so he could pull it free. "You think I won't remember that?" she said, as he gingerly pulled his boxers up.

He gazed down at her but her eyes were already closing. "Yeah," he whispered, as she stretched, turning onto her side. Her breasts were pale and she was naked save a pair of stockings, and she looked so incredibly defenseless. Ned was overwhelmed with a crushing wave of guilt. This was how Rick had wanted her. He should've turned her away as soon as she knocked on his door. He should've been stronger.

He rinsed out her skirt and left it draped over his desk chair, peeled her stockings off, and nudged her over until he was able to slide her under his covers, then kissed her cheek. He'd already done enough.

He struggled into his jeans and grabbed a spare blanket, glancing at her one last time before heading to the lounge couch.

\--

It was nine o'clock the next morning when she woke him. She was dressed in one of his old button-downs, her hair a mess, mascara smudged, pale. The heels of her hands were caught in his cuffs.

Ned twisted painfully, groaning. Spending half the night in a cramped ball on the lounge couch hadn't been the best idea, but it was all he'd been able to come up with.

"I feel like shit," she greeted him, her voice rough.

"Rick tried to slip you a mickey."

"Tried?"

"Did," Ned corrected, stretching awkwardly. "It's okay, he was arrested. Did you take some aspirin?"

She shrugged and looked away. "There are satin gloves on the floor in your room," she said slowly.

Ned decided a neutral nod was his best choice.

"And I woke up naked."

Ned went entirely still.

"Did I..."

"Whatever you did, or didn't, do," Ned said carefully, "it didn't... it's okay. We... didn't."

She nodded, then cringed at the motion. "That's good. Because if I did something like, oh, strip for you, it'd be awful to not remember it."

Ned grinned. "That's for damn sure."

She tried to look disapproving, but her tiny smile ruined it. "You doing anything later, Ned?"

"Only whatever you say."

Her smile widened and she turned away, and he finally felt the ball of sick anticipation in his stomach begin to fade. He was still going to take Rick apart with his bare hands, but he stood up, watching her long legs under the hem of his shirt as she climbed the stairs.

Today, she'd remember.

He grinned and followed her up.


End file.
